


tlc

by MiraclesInApril



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Canon-Typical, Hand Job, Hurt/Comfort, I'm weak okay, M/M, bath tub shenanigans, minimal plot, self indulgent as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 19:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18879733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraclesInApril/pseuds/MiraclesInApril
Summary: In which Jongin pushed himself through the concert and now his back has no thanks for him.“You’re completely corrupted.” Chanyeol groans, head flopping atop Jongin’s dramatically. “I go out of my way to create a romantic atmosphere and all you can think about is having my dick. I knew I shouldn’t have let you get addicted.” Chanyeol laments, muffled.





	tlc

**Author's Note:**

> i needed to write or die from stress so i fixed up a drabble draft from like last year. remember the manila concert? i think jongin had trouble with his back? waist? something. my memory is shit but i'm pretty sure that inspired this. it's not much but bon appetit lovelies~~
> 
> (barely edited)

Sleep has almost stolen him at last when the door opens and brightness from the hallway adds to the moonlight streaming in from the open balcony. Jongin turns over quickly so he doesn’t have to face whoever it is that has strolled in. It’s probably Chanyeol, since he’s the only one with a key card to this room besides Jongin but it’s plausible that Sehun has borrowed one from reception to talk or sleep over. Chanyeol made it clear on the ride that he wasn’t spending the night here.

A sharp twinge of pain shoots up his spine at the abrupt action and brings with it regret, swift and heavy. It’s a little irresponsible, he knows. He should have mentioned it to one of their managers. But the prospect of spending the whole night in the ER, when they’re headed home in the morning, and when they won’t tell him anything he doesn’t already know is not exactly a glittery option begging Jongin to pick it. He’d much rather let the analgesic kick in, curl up here in bed, against Chanyeol’s chest.

“Jonginnie,” the very voice that’s been causing him pain tonight calls out softly. Jongin masks his noise of surprise and tries to even out his breathing, put on a convincing sleeping act.

A stitch of bitterness pulls inside him. There’s exhaustion and somatic pain and a dull ache in his chest accompanying it, both refusing to be ignored tonight. It’s not that Chanyeol is not free to do as he likes, it’s not that he and Jongin must be sutured by the hips. It’s just that he needs comfort tonight and the only person he wishes to receive it from chose himself over him.

He thought that Chanyeol was joking when he said he requested another room because he was going out with a few others and didn’t want to disturb Jongin when he turned in late. Jongin had nodded and swallowed, lost in the pain haze and aching to get away to somewhere he could lie supine and wait out the painkillers in peace. But once he retired upstairs, it dawned on him that for the first time, Chanyeol abandoned him when he needed him. And fuck, it hurt. Hurts. All he could wallow on was how much he wished Chanyeol was there to whisper in his ear and use his gentle fingers on his skin and wonder why, why, why is Chanyeol not here with him. Is this the beginning of their falling apart? The thought raises rage and hurt, double edged. 

Why is  Chanyeol back now? Wasn’t he supposed to be out all night? Discovering Manila or finding the bottom of bottles in the hotel bar or whatever else they were getting up that Jongin couldn’t take part in?

God, his thoughts are caustic tonight and they fray his sanity more than anything else.

“Jonginnie,” the bed dips as Chanyeol sits on the edge behind Jongin, shaking his shoulders. He’s a heavy sleeper, he could stay still as a brick and drive Chanyeol to eventually give up and leave.

But there’s black smoke curdling and curdling inside him, from the excruciating pain of his back to the raw question of is this the end of Chanyeol prioritizing them when Jongin needs him most. 

“What?” though he’s groggy, the clippedness is loud. Chanyeol stays quiet, as if contemplating how to navigate the obvious frigidness and Jongin feels a prick of guilt. “What, hyung?” he sighs, a degree less curt as he turns his neck in Chanyeol’s direction.

“How’s the pain?”

He makes a noncommittal sound and turns back, closing his eyes.

It’s hard to continue shutting Chanyeol out when he grips Jongin’s shoulder again and turns him over gently. Even in the darkness there’s warmth in Chanyeol’s eyes that melt down Jongin’s walls, against his wish.

“Come on, let’s go.” There’s no alcohol clinging about him, nor does he seem loose limbed with intoxication but Jongin eyes him suspiciously all the same.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to show you something. Come with me.”

“I can’t move.”

“I know. I’ll carry you.”

Jongin doesn’t let Chanyeol carry him but he does let himself lean into him. All the strength he’d reserved for the concert and persevered with is completely spent and now his body is nothing more than a deflated aching mass. Chanyeol supports him with a firm arm around his waist, pushing him closer to his side.

He mumbles threateningly about not being able to go too far and Chanyeol tells him to be patient, his face pressed into Jongin’s hair in what Jongin suspects to be a kiss. It’s impossible to keep some of his irritation from wilting at that, and from being in Chanyeol’s arms. This was all he wanted after all.

Chanyeol leads them out of their room, down the hall to another door. Jongin looks up quizzically, wondering why Chanyeol brought them to the other suite he requested. Chanyeol smiles knowingly and inserts the key card, pushing the door open.

The room is dim like theirs had been, the only light source coming from further inside. Chanyeol hobbles them inside, the door whispering closed behind them and capturing them in more darkness.

“What are we doing here?” Jongin attempts to get more answers as his confusion grows but Chanyeol keeps hobbling them until they’ve reached the bathroom. He moves them inside, this one being far more spacious than the one in the other suite.

The bathroom glows, in amber and soft crimson, varied sized white and red candles dotting its length from the vanity to the tiles to the edge of the large tub and casting an intimate, cosy hue on the pristine white painted room. A tall bucket stands near the base of the tub and the neck of an opened champagne bottle peeks out. The accompanying flutes rest on the tub, filled to the brim and the cork of the bottle next to them. On the floor next to the bucket are several tubes and vials that look like oil and lotion.

Jongin takes it all in, the rose petals floating in the water, the petals dusting the floor and every other surface with single roses scattered atop them like a rosebush shed its flowers and petals over the bathroom the way the forest floors turn to golden carpets when sycamores shed their branches in August.

Chanyeol’s smile has a smug edge. “You thought,” he begins, his voice low and matching the intimate ambiance of the room, eyes aglow like the candles and prying into Jongin’s with soft accusation, “that I would leave you like this?”

He tugs Jongin closer by the waist as Jongin’s brows scrunch in confusion.

“You think I would leave you to hurt while I go out and have fun?”

Jongin shakes his head slowly, still a little lost, “But you said… you went to—”

Chanyeol tilts his head and waits patiently for Jongin to think it out. And then it clicks into place. That Chanyeol never went with the others. That Chanyeol was arranging this for him.

“Oh.”

“Hmm. Oh.” Chanyeol agrees, fingers now hovering at the top of Jongin’s patterned pyjama shirt. He watches as Chanyeol undoes the first button. The next. And the next until his torso is bare and exposed, the sides of the shirt falling aside and ghosting over his nipples.

“You wound me, baby.” Chanyeol says, face closer now than it was seconds ago and Jongin’s heart swims to his throat and beats there loudly.

He forces a snort, even as the guilt at judging his boyfriend too prematurely and harsh manifests like a vine in his chest and twists outwards.

“It won’t help much,” Chanyeol thumbs over Jongin’s collarbones, tracing the two bows of his clavicles and making Jongin’s breath hitch, “but I’m counting on it making you smile at least.” he’s even closer now, lips a thread’s breadth from Jongin’s and Jongin’s too busy losing his breath to reply. Chanyeol steals his silence to kiss him.

He keeps a grounding hand at the small of Jongin’s back and a palm at the back of Jongin’s head, cradling and loving and holding him in place and Jongin allows himself to be undone by the apology in Chanyeol’s lips, by the sweetness on his tongue and the love it sweeps into his mouth with each stroke.  

“I was angry, hyung.” Jongin admits when they break, Chanyeol slipping the shirt off him and letting it fall to the floor.

Chanyeol pauses on his waistband. “I know.” he says, pushing his trousers down. Jongin steps out of it carefully, a flash of heat running through him at Chanyeol’s smirk after seeing his lack of underwear even though he knows Jongin sleeps in the buff most nights.

“I thought you were starting to not care about me. Losing interest.” he adds in a mumble, resting his head on Chanyeol’s chest.

“Jonginnie,” he says in a quiet stricken gasp, “I’m sorry.” he cards his fingers through Jongin’s hair and Jongin wishes Chanyeol was naked too so he could snuggle into the warm skin of his broad chest.

“I know.” he lifts his head and gives the most mollifying and fond smile he can conjure. “I’m sorry too. I judged you quickly like an idiot.”

Chanyeol chuckles and Jongin feels the deep rumbles. “Cute idiot. Idiot.” he agrees and swats Jongin’s butt.

“Hyung!” it didn’t sting but Jongin whines and pulls back to glare.

“What? Is it the name or the spank? I don’t recall you having a problem with your bum being turned r—”

“Are you going to get us in there and fuck me or not?” Jongin huffs, grabbing two fistfuls of Chanyeol’s shirt with a grim face.

Chanyeol goes stoic for a second. “Is that what you think we came to do?”

Jongin’s grip loosens as he falters, “It’s not?”

“You’re completely corrupted.” Chanyeol groans, head flopping atop Jongin’s dramatically. “I go out of my way to create a romantic atmosphere and all you can think about is having my dick. I knew I shouldn’t have let you get addicted.” he laments, muffled.

“You’re so dramatic,” Jongin giggles, pushing Chanyeol away. He makes his way to the tub, trying to add a sway to his gait as he feels Chanyeol watch him go, despite the protests of his back. He lowers himself in, the water greeting him a warmer than lukewarm and less than boiling kiss, heavenly and glorious. He sighs and sinks in further, resting against the edge.

He can’t discern whether the water smells like roses because of the velvet petals or the bubble bath fragrance. The hint of cherry scent points to the latter and Jongin lets his senses soak, cosy and warm and occasionally caressed by rose petals.

“Getting in or gonna watch me?” Jongin asks languidly, cracking an eye open to see Chanyeol standing where he left him.

“Mm. Don’t know. The view is nice from here.” he says, beginning to undress.

“It’ll be even better in here. Come on.”

Naked, Chanyeol watches from the other side of the room. Jongin takes his own time examining everything Chanyeol displays to him, the tall rugged physique that ensconces him with strength and affection. His eyes land on the interested stiffness hanging between Chanyeol’s thick thighs.

“Hyung. What?” Jongin says a little more demanding, the water growing heated with his body.

“I love you.” Chanyeol says earnestly.

Instead of the impatience in Jongin flickering out, it blazes wildly.

“Come here,” he says with steadiness he doesn’t feel. “Come here, show me.”

Chanyeol, at last, complies. The tub becomes smaller as Chanyeol enters and it fills Jongin with tingles. He lets himself be backed to the other corner, so he can straighten his legs around Chanyeol who sits between, pressed up to him.

He leans in for a kiss but his lips land on glass instead. He blinks at the offensive for a perplexing moment until he hears laughter.

“Drink first.” He taps his own flute against Jongin’s, clink echoing.

Chanyeol’s saving grace is that the champagne tastes great, dissolving on Jongin’s tongue, doux and rich.

“Your back okay?” he braces a hand behind Jongin on the tub, forcing him to tilt his head back slightly.

Jongin nods. Chanyeol smiles and kisses his forehead. Unable to help himself, Jongin nuzzles Chanyeol’s jaw, blindly sets his drink aside and wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s shoulders. He feels the muscles ripple underneath as Chanyeol sets his own drink aside and wraps one arm around Jongin, pressing them even closer and making Jongin’s eyes flutter closed.

“We’re taking you to the hospital soon as we get home.” the sternness of his voice is contradicting the gentle way he ghosts his lips over Jongin’s earlobe, the softness of his other hand coming to fit Jongin’s waist.

“Are you bragging right now?” Jongin blinks incredulously.

“I’m not fucking you tonight, Jongin.” Chanyeol sighs.

“Why not?” it comes out a petulant exclaim and he hates the way Chanyeol laughs so smuggly.

“You want to go there right now?” but worse than smug, Chanyeol turns strict again, strict and reprimanding. “Baby, I know you’re strong but soldiering through an injury will only hurt you worse long term.” he finishes, looking Jongin in the eye, worry evident behind the reprove.

“I’m just tired.” Jongin sighs, “Wanted sleep. And you.”

“I know. I know. You got me.” He moves down Jongin’s body, probing and caressing until he finds what he’s looking for and makes Jongin gasp sharply. “But we gotta take care of you properly.” he grips Jongin’s cock firmly and gives slow thorough strokes and Jongin isn’t sure if he’s trying to drive him crazy or arouse him faster.

Both are assured to happen.

“You’re really not fucking me tonight?” it comes out more pouty than he means it to and he once again feels Chanyeol’s discreet laughter like it were in his own chest.

“No. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make you feel good.” he pulls on Jongin’s cock, again and again. Jongin keeps the sounds in but the way his hips move out of their own will and his eyes shut and his breathing changes are obvious and even then Chanyeol would know what he’s feeling because he seems to have the bibliography of Jongin and Jongin’s body soldered to the deepest part of his memory.

“You good, baby?” he kisses up Jongin’s neck, sucking lightly and scraping teeth on wet skin. His free hand trails up Jongin’s chest, removing sticky petals and grazing over receptive skin until he reaches a nipple, thumbs and gets an abrupt, fierce reaction.

“Yeah,” Jongin shudders hard with closed eyes, “keep going please.”

Chanyeol smiles and obeys. “Can I put you on my lap?” he brings his mouth to Jongin’s brushes brief kisses onto his lips. “Jonginnie?” he repeats when Jongin doesn’t come out of the pleasure daze.

“Mm yeah,” he grabs onto Chanyeol, locking his arms around him and letting himself be manoeuvred onto the firmness of Chanyeol’s thighs, half hard cock squeezing between his cheeks.

“Tell me if it hurts. I’ll stop.” Chanyeol cups the small of Jongin’s back again, massaging gently and completely unaware to the need flaring up in Jongin.

“Hyung,” he whimpers, moving his hips as much as he dares over Chanyeol’s cock, pushing it further between his cheeks and feeling the crave to have it inside him expand.

A hand appears on each of his hips, stilling him with effectiveness that just goes to his cock. “Well if your back stays broken I’ll never fuck you again. Do you want that to happen?” he raises a brow, knowing he’s got Jongin right where he wanted him.

“Of course not.” Jongin says, slightly moody.

“Good.” Chanyeol pats him sympathetically, “Then let me know if it gets uncomfortable immediately.”

“Okay. Fine. Just, don’t stop.”

Chanyeol takes mercy and resumes stroking him. He resumes kissing his neck too and Jongin lets the pleasure overwhelm him. He gets away with rutting against Chanyeol several times until Chanyeol is snug between his ass and it’s not ideal but it’ll have to do since Chanyeol is adamant on not penetrating him tonight.

He could coax Chanyeol into it if he wanted, he’s sure of that. But he doesn’t mind letting Chanyeol taking care of him the way he sees best, especially when they’ve already had a misunderstanding tonight and Jongin knows it’s still lingering on Chanyeol’s mind, from the way he looked at him with a slightly fractured rue before he avowed his love and entered the tub, from the way he’s been holding Jongin like he’s made of porcelain but his eyes speak of yearning to crush Jongin to him with all his might.

“Yes,” he moans into Chanyeol’s ear, brushes a kiss to the pulse point in his neck before starting to suck and eliciting a moan in return, “feels so good hyung,”

Chanyeol hums and redoubles his efforts. A hunch enters Jongin’s posture, struggling to keep still and not just fuck into Chanyeol’s fist with abandon.

“Jonginnie,” Chanyeol encourages, lifting his head to look at him. Jongin has to work to keep his eyes open, keep them focused on Chanyeol, because Chanyeol loves watching him as he comes, loves when Jongin doesn’t look away. Between deep blinks tinged with creeping rapture, Jongin sees Chanyeol bite down on his lips, sees his lids grow heavier like Jongin’s.

“Hyung please,” Jongin whimpers, despite Chanyeol giving him all that he needs, the speed, the pressure, the full strokes from the base to the tip where he smooths a thumb over before moving down again.

“Love you,” Chanyeol murmurs, holding him close, stroking him fast, “Love you so much baby.” he says again as Jongin goes, to the stars, to the studded place you go when your eyes squeeze tight and your brain compresses and bliss tries to flatten you into nonexistence.

He feels nothing but pleasure as he arches, as he lets his orgasm take him. The ache kicks in once he comes down and open his eyes, after an eternity.

“Hey.” Chanyeol laughs.

“Hi.” Jongin smiles sheepishly. “I love you.” he says sluggishly.

“Good to know.” Chanyeol’s smile blossoms to a grin and Jongin’s gut kicks with a gentler pleasure. Chanyeol pushes him to his chest, spreading his thighs to let Jongin settle in the space between.

“Thank you,” Jongin murmurs, knowing Chanyeol understands what he means. “I’m sorry again.”

“You can make it up to me,” Chanyeol cards a hand through his hair, presses a kiss to Jongin’s shoulder.

Jongin reaches down, feeling the evidence of Chanyeol’s arousal on his waist. Before he gets there Chanyeol grips his wrist and brings it back to his shoulder.

“Not today.”

“Hyung.” Jongin protests, wanting to make Chanyeol feel as good as he made him feel.

“When you get better.” Chanyeol promises, kissing his shoulder again and nuzzling into Jongin’s neck before saying in his ear, “I’ll fuck your pretty mouth if you don’t mind.”

“Hyung,” Jongin wishes it came out anything but a moan but it’s undeniable that it is.

“Be good,” Chanyeol nips his ear before pressing a kiss there, “if you do what the doctor says we’ll go on a date.”

“So now you’re withholding dates too? That’s too cruel hyung.” Jongin pinches Chanyeol’s arm and enjoys the short yell he gets.

“We’ll go to a resort. Where nobody will hear how I make you scream.”

Jongin turns instantly docile again.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You promise hyung?”

“I do, baby.”

“Okay,” Jongin sighs and relaxes against Chanyeol, succumbing to the fingers in his hair and the ones soothing his spine. “Love you.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> can't wait to come back with quality work once my exams are done but i hope you guys liked this too T.T 
> 
> [twitter || ](https://twitter.com/miraclesnapril) [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/miraclesnapril) ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ＼


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